


The choice I must make

by astracrits



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt, Slight mentions of Micaiah, Slight mentions of Sothe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:01:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27373123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astracrits/pseuds/astracrits
Summary: Pelleas finds himself unable to make a decision. Will he be able to help Daein? Or will he doom everybody? He is in anguish over not knowing what to do, but what can he do if he's basically screwed everything up?
Kudos: 4
Collections: Fire Emblem Writer's Zine





	The choice I must make

**Author's Note:**

> This was my piece for @fewriterzine on twitter! I hope you all can read all the works showcased in the collection linked :D

Pelleas found himself sitting on the ledge of the open window, absent-mindedly gazing into the distance without looking at anything in particular at the same time. He had been doing that over the past week. Whenever he had any free time, he always returned to his room at the top of castle Daein. 

Lately, the room that felt so foreign to him became a place of comfort -- his own sanctuary, somewhere he could escape whenever he needed some solitude. It was funny; he was in his father’s room—a father he never knew himself, yet, someone whose place he needed to fill. As the son of Ashnard, Pelleas inherited a duty to Daein. He needed to protect his people and rule the kingdom, but some days… he didn’t think he was able to, nor would he ever be able to.

Of course, Micaiah was the one doing everything for him. She was doing all the fighting while Pelleas stood in the backlines.

Was that what a king was supposed to do? Issue orders to his soldiers and send them off to their deaths while he stays behind and watch everything unfold?

It sounded preposterous.

But then again, Pelleas never had any education about ruling a country. He didn’t know what a king needed to do or how one was supposed to behave. The only thing Pelleas knew how to do was to hide from everybody, so that neither he nor his mother would be harmed.

Now, he found himself right in the middle of a war to save his people from the tyranny of Begnion. Those who had offered their help after Ashnard died ended up oppressing them. 

_ Ironic _ was the only word that came to mind whenever he thought of it.

Pelleas’ sight locked onto the moving trees of the courtyard. The wind was no more than a breeze—not nearly strong enough to rustle their leaves in such a way. His eyes tried scanning them, to see if it were kids playing, or squirrels running, or perhaps birds about to fly away in freedom.

Despite the war, all of them had infinitely more freedom than Pelleas would ever have.

In a split second, the blue-haired king saw a flock of birds peeking from the tree. They flew around the greenery for short moments before rising into the air. They moved so quickly, without any abandon or worry. It made Pelleas feel so jealous; to feel so chained to his destiny didn’t make him feel safe or proud or anything like that.

But Pelleas couldn’t run away: he couldn’t ditch his duties, nor his fate. Some days just thinking about it was devastating, but he held his head high. He couldn’t be seen as even weaker.

Yes, his thoughts went back and forth like that almost every single day.

His moods could fluctuate in an instant; as quickly as his bad mood had arrived, he could cheer himself up again. He turned to face the side, to a book that had become his companion since the last week from how much he read it. His slender fingers slid across the cover; it had an image of a crow perched on a tree, and the book told of various legends of the Tellius of old. It was his favorite. Each story was so rich and so mysterious; some of them were even entrancing as he read them—like he was right there within its pages.

He opened the book on the page he had left it the last time he read. It was a legend about a shapeshifter, yet different from a laguz. This person could shift into whatever he wanted, without any restrictions. The legend told about how he grew up poor and found himself in trouble most of the time, but also how he deviously and intelligently got out of every single problem by morphing into something or someone else.

It was astounding; reading something like that brought Pelleas a smile. To have the power to decide for yourself, to be able to save yourself from whatever might come. It made him feel a little jealous, but it also made him very happy. Legends weren’t just that, right? They had to have some truth in them, and that meant that maybe Pelleas wasn’t tied to his problem. Maybe he didn’t need to suffer.

But signing a blood pact was something really complex.

How could a single thing be the cause of all of Pelleas’ problems? How could it mean that he single-handedly put himself, his army, and all of the Daein citizens in danger?

It made him feel weak whenever he thought about it. To have been so naive that he got tricked into signing the pact. But what else could be done when you had no more options?

Pelleas thought to himself that maybe he could tell Micaiah about it. She was his trusted ally, his brave sword with which he fended off the Begnion army. Surely she would be able to understand that he was tricked, right? She was kind, so maybe she wouldn’t be harsh to him.

However, she was always with Sothe, and he was sure to snap at him––maybe even try to hurt him for doing what he did. He would have a valid reason to do it, though, there wasn’t any excuse Pelleas could come up with to justify his actions. He was tricked into signing the blood pact, that was all there was to it.

Oh, how it hurt Pelleas so deeply.

He came back to reality after a few short moments. His fist had balled up and his knuckles were white. His other hand was gripping the book with almost all of his strength. He had to relax himself from the shock, causing the book to be dropped onto the ground.

Though after his mind raced all over the place… Pelleas didn’t feel like reading anymore. Picking up the book, he walked towards the small bookshelf. It was full of all the literature Pelleas read since arriving at the Daein castle. He sighed, although it was a sigh of relief from remembering the fun he had reading them all, not a sigh of exhaustion. After a long look at all the other titles, he placed the book on the shelf with a roughness that seemed unlike him.

Maybe the whole situation was changing him, and that was what he was becoming now. He would know it himself––he couldn’t ask anybody else what they thought of both the matter and him.

Pelleas considered his mother, Almedha, but the idea seemed more preposterous than telling Micaiah. He knew she loved him, that he was her adoration, but would his mother understand that he gave her an unknown death sentence and be okay with it?

He didn’t know at that moment.

That was when his panic began growing worse. Pelleas gasped for air as his vision was getting blurry. He unconsciously leaned against the shelf in an attempt to stabilize himself. He wanted everything to stop right then, for time to stay still so he could have some precious moments to think, but everything seemed to go faster.

It was a crow that made him relax after some more moments. He hadn’t seen it enter his room before, but after he caught sight of it, his eyes wouldn’t leave the bird.

And it was okay, it was helping. Pelleas’ breathing calmed and his heart stopped pounding. Soon both he and the room stabilized. The king took some careful steps towards the bird, whose sight was fixed on him as well. Its little head tilted to the side and it hopped to face him, yet it remained there, waiting to see what the human would do.

He was just mere steps from the bird. Pelleas reached for his nightstand, where a lone piece of bread and a glass of water were. He took a piece of it and pressed it with his fingers to let the crumbs loose before gently tossing them to the crow.

It began eating at once, without any care in the world. It was as if Pelleas wasn’t there anymore, or never was. It worked for him, though, it allowed him to inch a little closer. However, as soon as the crow saw Pelleas it began flying around the room. It looked panicked, wild, unlike a normal crow. Had he done something to upset it?

He knew how crows needed to be handled, he knew that you could feed them and they would remember and be grateful to you, but you couldn’t try to pet it, or else it would flee. All he wanted to do was feed it the bigger piece of bread in his hand, but he couldn’t do it, it wouldn’t allow him.

Pelleas covered his face with his arms so as not to get scratched by the bird, but no matter how much time he protected himself, that moment never came. It was strange, he was sure the crow would do something thanks to its fear, but when Pelleas uncovered his face and opened his eyes, the crow was gone.

And just like that, all of the people in Daein would be gone.

It suddenly hit Pelleas. Was the crow truly there? Was he going to be attacked by a bird he just wanted to feed? He was beginning to panic. He needed to calm down quickly, or else his mind would be the one to kill him before the blood pact did.

Pelleas sat on his bed, looking at the floor to ground himself to his reality, so he wouldn’t faint or throw up from his impotence. How could he keep going with himself when everything seemed to fall apart so quickly? Would the father he never met know what to do in a situation like this? Would any other leader of Tellius be able to help him in his situation?

But what if the contract was breached the moment he talked about it? Would everyone start perishing?

_ Anguish, anxiety, anger. _ Those were the emotions that Pelleas felt nowadays.

The ground stopped shaking, his breathing calmed quickly. Nevertheless, his feelings were still pooling in him. It was making him paralyze, to the point where he seemed to be detaching from reality.

Suddenly, a knock came at his door, a knock that brought him back and anchored him to the room. “Ah, come in.” He said weakly, it was hard not to let his voice break.

“My son,” Almedha’s sweet voice called as she entered the room. “How are you—Pelleas?! What's wrong?!” She quickly moved across the room, seemingly gliding to aid her son. Almedha gently wrapped her arms around Pelleas, stroking his head as he stayed silent.

It’s not like he didn’t want to say anything, it’s that he couldn’t. If he mentioned the contract he was sure things would go downhill, more than they already were. “Umm… Nothing, Mother. I just…” It was taking everything not to break down in front of his mother. He needed to be strong. “I saw a crow flying by and I wanted to feed it, but it flew away.”

But his mother wasn’t buying that; no one would if you used that voice tone and looked like he did. “Pelleas,” Almedha replied, her tone turning cold. “You should know better than to lie to your mother.”

At the sudden reply, the king shivered. “N-no, I’m not lying to you, Mother. I forgot that you shouldn’t try to pick crows up.” Yes, that was true, that happened. It was a relief to realize it truly happened.

“I see,” something still told Pelleas that she didn’t believe him. “It’s unusual to see crows here when there are lots of pigeons.”

That seemed to help him relax more, to feel his mother’s presence calming him whenever he was stressed was a blessing that he would be grateful for until the end of his days. “It is, mother,” Pelleas laughed, nice moments such as those he needed to enjoy. “I hope it returns soon, I wanna try feeding it more, a book I read long ago said they remember those that do.”

“I’m sure it will, Pelleas, I’m sure it will,” Almedha cupped her son’s face so he could face her. “Are you feeling tired? Stressed? Hurt, even? I know you’ve been having rough days lately.”

Pelleas shook his head gently, finding the energy he needed to maintain his facade now. “I admit I haven’t been sleeping well, Mother, but that’s everything. Thank you so much for your concern.”

“Hush now, this is a mother’s duty; I only want to help in whatever way I can. The job of a king is not easy.”

It wasn’t, but when you had someone to take care of your army and multiple advisors, it seemed like you didn’t do a single thing at all. “I agree, it’s taxing, but thanks to everybody—especially you, I’m able to manage quite well. Thank you, Mother.”

The smile that presented itself on Almedha’s lips was a sincere, warm one; she was so proud of her son for being so strong. “No need to thank me, Pelleas,” she cooed quietly. “I’ll be going now, but please, do not hesitate to call your mother should you need me.”

She was his pillar. “I will, Mother,” Pelleas would’ve stayed quiet and finished his conversation like that, but when he suddenly said, “be safe,” he couldn’t help but paralyze.

And so, Almedha turned around. “I knew it. A mother can see through a son’s lies,” her tone changed back to a cold and calculating one. It made Pelleas more frightened. “Tell me now, what’s happening?”

He sighed, needing to compose himself first before he would spill everything and doom everyone. “It’s silly, mother.”

“I don’t mind. I am here for you.”

But he surely wasn’t going to say anything, no matter what. “I… well, I’ve just been feeling a little useless.”

How could he tell his mother that he put a death sentence on her? She would be heartbroken. “None of that, Pelleas, you haven’t been useless at all, why would you think something like that?”

“It’s because of Micaiah. She’s been fighting so hard for me while I’ve been holed away at the camps, and now here.” At least he wasn’t lying about that, but thinking that he was really useless was the part that made him feel worse.

Almedha hugged Pelleas gently. She stayed quiet for some moments before speaking. “She’s just a vassal, fighting for her king, that’s all you need to know, dear. You aren’t useless, all your people depend on you, and we all believe that you will be a great king.”

Truly, his mother always knew what to say to cheer him up. Despite the coldness of her words, Pelleas knew that the person who believed in him the most wasn’t anybody but her. “You’re right,” he said earnestly, dedicating a smile to her. “Thank you, Mother, you always give me the strength to make my own resolutions. It’s because of you that I can be strong.”

The two of them hugged one more time, before his mother slowly pushed away. “It is time I went now, Pelleas, but I’ll be sure to come later in the day.”

“That’s alright, Mother,” he walked with her to the door and opened it for her. “I’ll make sure someone brings us tea when you come over.”

“That would be lovely, Pelleas.” She touched his cheek before she left.

Just like that, Pelleas was alone once more, but the bad sensations and feelings didn’t return. He was still calm, and he hoped he would stay like so for some more time. This wasn’t a time to despair or lose his faith. There was a solution to his problem, he just needed to think things through. Everybody was counting on him.

Pelleas walked to his bed, his hand unconsciously pulled the cabinet in his nightstand to take out the only thing that was there, that had been there for a while.

It was a Fenrir tome. To many others, that strange book would be something normal, something only dark mages would use, but it was different for Pelleas. His mother gave it to him when they took the castle. It was mostly as a means of protection—given the fights and the constant stress he was going through, but it meant much more for Pelleas; it was proof of the long way he had come, that he was not the weak man a lot of people made him out to be.

He cherished the book so much.

Sliding his fingers through the book was so silly; it was as if he was in a cycle, repeating the actions he had done previously. At least he was now in a better headspace than before, though he still had his problem to think about.

He slightly focused on the book’s energy, and chanted some of the words to create three small, purple clouds that floated around him. Pelleas could manipulate dark magic such as that one with extreme ease, which is why he was creating clouds instead of the flames of the characteristic magic.

But magic was no fun if you did just one single thing. With a flick of his hand and another passage of the incantation, Pelleas made the small clouds dissipate and then appear in front of him. Afterwards, they began jumping through the room like tiny spirits, ready to start their mischief. It made him happy, to have a small moment in which he could have fun amidst the ongoing crisis. Pelleas chuckled as he made his tiny clouds bounce over the walls and the windows, it would be short before the clouds left their trails all over the room, so he recalled them and set them right in front of him.

He made a fist and recited another passage, this time reading different lines to make the small clouds gain power and turn into bright flames. The room lit all around him with the magic, making it look like it was a different dimension. To some, it would’ve looked like some sort of hellscape, what with the purplish shine and the resulting shadows, but for Pelleas, it was like he could be in his own world, free of everything and everyone.

He made the magic spin around with various speeds; slowly to leave a slight trail of purple, then quickly so that it was a ring of demonic fire, a blaze so bright that would protect him from any danger. Pelleas then made a sweeping motion with his hand, from left to right, to dissipate the flames.

If only he could disappear, just as he made those flames go.

Disappear.

What if…

A smile crept up on Pelleas’ mouth, a single tear rolled through his cheek. It was scary how quickly he had come to a decision, how fast he found a solution to everything that was going bad.

If only Pelleas would die, then that would mean the contract would be nulled and everybody would be saved. There wasn’t even a single speck of doubt in his mind, he was sure of that, that if he perished, all of Daein would be saved.

But that meant he would hurt a lot of people, especially his mother. Daein would lose its king just when it found it again, it would lose a leader right in the middle of the war against Begnion; in their greatest time of need.

However, it would only be one person to disappear, while everybody else would be safe.

Yes, Micaiah could lead the army, they could win the war. Maybe she could lead them too, now that Izuka was long gone; she had and all her other friends by her side, she could do this.

But what hurt Pelleas the most was Almedha. After everything his mother did for him, the unconditional support she always gave him, all the love… leaving her alone and with a dead son would be devastating.

Nevertheless, the good of the many, the safety of the many… that was more important.

Pelleas was choosing this for himself and by himself. No one else could tell him whether that was the correct choice or a wrong one, no one would question him until that moment, when he would ask Tauroneo to end his life.

No. It had to be Micaiah. That answer was clear as day. It was devastating for Pelleas too, and she would be hurt as well, but she alone had to carry the burden—or the glory, or killing the one who put Daein in danger.

He just prayed she would be a fine queen, though he had no doubt Micaiah would live up to the promise. No one seemed to love Daein more than her, she would be a benevolent ruler.

Everything was set then, and it hit Pelleas suddenly, that he finally came to the answer he was looking for. He would finally save everybody, it didn’t matter that he had to trade his life for his goal.

It was like a bright shadow, looming and shining over him.


End file.
